Sparks erupted from the open communication console. McKillip jumped back, then immediately put his hands back in.
Two more warning tones sounded, indicating two more objects had been launched from the dreadnaught. “Hurry if you can, sir. We now have three incoming missiles.”
“I have it.” McKillip said, lifting a small object from the inside of the console. “Our insurance policy.”
Steiner readied his hand to activate countermeasures for the first missile.
The tactical display went dark. All the lighting in the room dimmed to emergency levels. McKillip met Steiner’s gaze for an instant. A bright flash erupted from the exterior viewports, a wave of disorientation, then blackness. The sound of groaning metal made Steiner open his eyes. Smoke hovered in the room. He lay sprawled on the floor. When he tried to climb to his feet, a sharp pain ran through his right leg. Then he remembered the two missiles en route. They had about thirty seconds before impact. He forced himself to his feet, searching the haze for the captain. His body lay across the tactical console, facedown. Blood dripped from the console. Steiner raised McKillip’s head; his face looked peaceful. When Steiner felt for a pulse, McKillip’s eyes opened, and he coughed. Steiner tried to lift him and found a piece of communication equipment embedded in his abdomen. McKillip’s dark eyes flickered, then met Steiner’s. “Get out while there’s still time.”
“I was supposed to die, not you.”
McKillip shook his bloodstained beard. “One of us must survive,” he barely managed.
Steiner felt frozen. Within his mind, Steiner saw Mary’s shuttle hover above the depot just outside the window of the lounge where he stood. Fire ignited from the rear of the craft, spreading to engulf the entire vessel. The flaming wreckage crashed against the pad, bursting into a blossom of fiery debris that pelted the transparency of the lounge.
Then he remembered the incoming missiles.
Eyes tearing, he threw himself away from the captain and stumbled to the door of the command center. He looked back at the man, who stared blankly into nothingness.
He limped into the smoke ahead of him, trying to keep his bearings. His fingers found a control panel for a lifepod. A shining red light indicated it had already been launched. The next one was still green. He stumbled inside, pulled down the emergency release lever, and fell into the first seat. The automatic harness closed about his body. He felt the thrust of the lifepod as it propelled itself from the Valiant. Then he closed his eyes.
CHAPTER 2
MARY’S hair flowed like a silk sheet in the breeze. Eyes glistening, she smiled, then turned and ran playfully down the street, beckoning him to follow.
“No,” Steiner pleaded. “Stay for a while.”
She threw him a kiss as she danced into the chapel at the end of the block.
“Don’t go in there,” he yelled, running to catch her.
The chapel shimmered in the light. The steeple sank into the distorting mass as it morphed into a shuttle sitting on a landing pad.
Steiner forced himself awake before the dream could steal her from him again. In the darkness of the early morning, he sobbed silently. Someday to hold her again so that she would never leave.
A cough sounded from behind the wall next to his cot, reminding him of where he was. In the faint light, he could make out the toilet in the corner and his prison-issued orange jumpsuit hanging over the back of his chair. He climbed out of bed, picked up the green marker next to his cot, and checked off another day from hand-drawn calendar on the metallic white wall. It had been six months since the destruction of the Valiantand the series of events that occurred afterward. As he took a shower in the corner of his cell, he reminded himself of why he needed to keep living. He recalled going to McKillip’s home the day after the tragedy and finding that Judith had been murdered the previous night by a prowler, who had conveniently stolen all the computer records within the house. His pulse began to race. Dressing in his prison jumpsuit, he remembered the news services blaming the destruction of the Valiantand the loss of half its crew on the captain’s dismissal of counterorders that Jamison had sent, but Steiner knew they had never received any counterorders. Someone had falsified the computer records. His breathing became rapid. His hands trembled from rage as he shaved. He thought of the face of Admiral Jamison, expressing fake pity for the great loss Steiner had suffered. Steiner threw the disposable razor on the floor. He closed his eyes, imagining Jamison smugly sitting behind his desk, just as he had when Steiner confronted him that fateful day. When Jamison had the gall to blame McKillip for the incident, Steiner had decided if the Cyrian Defense had installed the admiral in power, then it seemed right that one of the last surviving members should take him out. That was when Steiner had jumped over the man’s desk and punched him with all his might. His fist hit the concrete wall of his cell, and pain shot up his arm.
Footsteps sounded outside his cell. Steiner licked the blood from his knuckles, relishing the sting of his wound. The door slid aside. Two guards stepped through, both armed with stun guns.
“You have a visitor,” one of them announced.
Steiner laughed to himself, enjoying the irony. It had been two MPs who had kept him from killing Jamison that day in the admiral’s office. He had subsequently been court-martialed for attempted murder and incarcerated.
After the guards frisked him, Steiner exited the cell, with both guards trailing behind him half a step. He marched with pride, as if he were on his way to meet an admiral. The only visits he had were when his lawyer needed to update him on the military tribunal he had called regarding Jamison’s connections to the pirating ring within U.S.S. space. The judge had agreed to the investigation on behalf of McKillip and his wife. The coincidental timing of both of their deaths had raised suspicions among the other admirals, but they were hesitant to believe any accusations of treason against the Chief Military Officer of the U.S.S. Fleet. Steiner wanted to live to try to change their minds, or at least cast enough doubt to put a stop to Jamison’s illegal activities.
Steiner entered the vacant visitation chamber, where the guards proceeded to shackle his legs to the single chair on his side of the table. The cool air chilled his body and his rage. Freshly used cleanser burned his nostrils. He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the laminated surface of the table in front of him. Within the glint of his determined gaze, he could still see the shadow of the officer he once was. With his fingers, he combed out the tangles of sandy hair. His bare face looked pale and weak without a beard covering it. The warden expected all his inmates to be clean-shaven, or he would have the barbers do it for them, painfully.
A knock stole his attention away. When the door opened, a businesslike woman clad in a power suit entered, her flame red hair tied up in a bun.
Steiner could not believe his eyes. “Suzanne?”
“It’s a long story, Jake—one best told in private.”
As both guards exited, Steiner stared at his old shipmate in utter disbelief. He hadn’t seen Riggs since their rescue from the Valiant. Even though he felt a small measure of joy at seeing her again, it was overwhelmed by shame because of his appearance.
She guided her slender figure into the chair sitting on the opposite side of the table, her perfume competing with the acidic odor surrounding them. She eyed him as if pitying an injured pet. “You don’t look so good, Ja—”
“How did you find me?” he cut her off. “No one but my lawyer knows I’m here. Did he tell you?”
“No, I accidentally discovered you on my own. From all the reports, I knew you had been incarcerated for—” She swallowed. “Why did you attempt to murder Admiral Ralph Jamison?”
Steiner sighed. All the news services had labeled him an insane officer, driven over the edge by the destruction of his ship. If only they knew the whole truth.
“Jamison slaughtered half our shipmates,” Steiner shouted. “Close friends of both yours and mine.”
“I’ve been told Captain McKil
lip ignored the counterorder.”
“That’s a lie. There was no counterorder.”
“What if he made a mistake?” Suzanne asked.
“No. I spoke to him right before the mission began. He didn’t make a mistake.”
“All right,” she said. “Tell me what he told you.”
“For the past year, McKillip had been collecting evidence linking Admiral Jamison to the pirates plaguing the border systems. Before we went into Sector 489, he warned me that Jamison had signed the orders, and there was a possibility it was a trap—in fact, he died trying to remove the communication array to preserve the logs.”
“Did he save the logs?”
“No, it was too late.”
“So, you have no proof?”
Steiner’s anger grew at her skepticism. “He told his wife to take his computer records to the War Council if he was killed.”
“Did she?”
“She was murdered by a burglar on the same day. The computer files were stolen.”
“So you think her murder was orchestrated by Jamison.” She gasped. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now. You and McKillip had a very special relationship. You were like the son that he and Judith never had. But why would you waste your career in order to murder Admiral Jamison?”
“I just wanted a confession, but—”
“That temper of yours got the better of you,” she interrupted. “I told you it would land you in trouble eventually.”
Steiner hated it whenever she lectured him, especially since he no longer possessed the rank to stop her. “Why are you here anyway? How did you find me? My lawyer moves me around regularly and keeps my identity a secret.”
Her mouth compacted into a fine line. “I work for Ralph Jamison now.”
Steiner came to his feet, the shackles restraining the movement. “You what?”
“He’s my boss,” Suzanne replied, standing up as well.
“I knew you were ambitious, but to sell out for a promotion …”
“Just hold on there. You have no proof of your accusations.”
Steiner slammed his fist on the laminated surface. “He’s a murderer.”
The door slid open. One of the guards peered through. Suzanne glared at Steiner for a long heartbeat as if to remind him she controlled the proceedings. After he resettled himself in his chair, she motioned to the guard to close the door again.
Blood began to leak from the reopened scab on Steiner’s knuckles. “Does your master also know I’m here?” he managed in a civil tone.
“A memo on his desk said you were located here. After a glance through the list of convicts, I found a Jake Smith. I took a chance that Jake Smith was Jake Steiner.”
Steiner’s fury dissolved into fear. If Jamison knew he was there, his life was in great danger. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
“Why?”
“I called for a formal tribunal into your boss’s activities,” he said. “If he gets the chance, I’m sure he’ll try to silence me, too.”
“When is the trial?”
“Six months from now, unless he twists more arms and postpones it again. Do you have something to write on?”
After Suzanne produced a pad and pen from a pocket, Steiner recited his lawyer’s name and number.
“Tell him that I require an immediate transfer,” he said.
“You really think Ralph will try to kill you?” she asked.
“Assassinations are quite easy in here, that’s why I’m hiding under an alias. I want to live to testify.”
A gleam danced in her eyes. “Transfers take time, more time than you may have. I can get you out quicker.”
She was up to something. Steiner could feel it coming. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m the director of the P.A.V. Program—Penitentiary Assault Vessel. Convicts man a spacecraft to raid enemy installations in return for points toward their freedom. The ship is still docked in orbit. I can get you on board today.”
Steiner sighed. “So that’s why you came to see me. You’re not interested in my well-being. You just want to recruit me for your personal gain.”
“That’s not true. I care about what happens to you. You’re my former commander, my shipmate, my friend.”
Steiner shook his head. “Jamison could find me there just as easy.”
“But on the P.A.V., you’d be armed,” she replied.
“What? The convicts have weapons?”
“No. Just the captain.”
Steiner chuckled at the absurdity of her proposition. “You want me to command a prison ship?”
“Penitentiary Assault Vessel,” she corrected with an edge of irritation. “Besides, I can’t think of anyone more qualified. You served as McKillip’s executive officer for seven years. You were born to be a leader.”
“Not of a prison ship,” he shot back. “What’s to keep the convicts from taking off with it?”
“Security passwords control all the major functions of the vessel. If anyone mutinies, they couldn’t go anywhere. All you have to worry about is training them to fight.”
“Impossible,” Steiner said. “A bunch of inmates could never function as an assault force.”
“I handpicked all of them. They have both the military experience and the desire to make this work. Most of them are like you. They made a mistake and want to start over.”
Steiner rubbed his chin, scraping slight stubble. “If you have already chosen a crew, then you must have had a captain already singled out. Why isn’t he doing it?”
Suzanne hesitated and lowered her gaze. “He’s dead,” she admitted. “He was found murdered before the ship launched.”
The answer didn’t surprise Steiner. “One of your handpicked men, of course?” he said sarcastically.
Her gaze narrowed. “We don’t know who did it. Ralph Jamison almost shelved the whole program. I asked him if I could take it over.”
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth? Perhaps you’re helping him to get to me that much easier?”
“How dare you suggest such a thing after all we’ve been through in the last ten years,” Suzanne said. “I’m offering you a second chance.”
“You’re not doing this for me. You’re interested in whatever can get you to the top the fastest. Go find yourself another pawn.” Steiner turned toward the door, and called out, “Guards, we’re done in here.”
When the guards stepped into the room, Suzanne signaled them to hold back for a moment. She leaned forward. “Jake, you’re only thirty-four. By the time you’re released, you’ll be in your fifties. The United Star Systems needs good captains now. At least think about my offer.” She held out the pen. “Write my number down somewhere. If you change your mind in the next two days, call me. After that, the P.A.V. program will be dead.”
To appease her, Steiner curled a corner of his shirtsleeve and let her write it on the inside fabric.
Suzanne stood up from the table. “Good luck, Jake.”
“Thanks. If Jamison knows I’m here, I’ll probably need some.”
When she turned to leave, there were tears in her eyes.
CHAPTER 3
STEINER stood in a line of convicts waiting to be served meals. The digital clock on the wall read “12:36,” the time when the west-wing cellblock assembled for lunch. The cavernous dining hall resonated with the roar of conversing voices, riotous laughter, and the continuous scraping of trays. The rice dish being served possessed the same lack of smell that every other meal seemed to have.
Steiner searched through the room’s occupants for potential assassins. Thankfully, no one showed any interest in him.
Maybe he was overreacting. He might be transferred out before Jamison could try anything.
His mind replayed the encounter with Suzanne. Her offer enticed him the more he thought of it. He missed command, but when he looked at the convicts eating in the dining hall, he couldn’t imagine them manning a warship.
St
einer smiled when he saw Sam Perez threading a path toward him. When he had first learned that the “Teenage Wrath of God,” as the news links had labeled the seventeen-year-old youth, was being held at Atwood Penitentiary, he made an effort to befriend him because he sympathized with his plight. Both of them were being punished for seeking justice for crimes against people they loved.
Born the son of a famous crime lord, Sam was given up by his mother when he was five years old. She left him with Father Jose Perez at a local parish, begging him to hide the boy until she could return for him. Sam served as the grounds-keeper for the parish, waiting every day to see his mother return for him, but she never did. After the New Order was formed, its supreme leader, Christophe Staece, made the Catholic Church the official religion of his new empire, which immediately brought suspicion against the Catholic parishes throughout the United Star Systems. During the following five years of growing unrest between the two superpowers, Jose Perez spoke out for a peaceful resolution. After August 15, 2429, the Day of Betrayal, the mistrust of the Catholic Church within the U.S.S. territories ignited into rage and resentment. During a candlelight vigil for peace, a mob from the neighboring township rose up and burned Father Perez’s parish to the ground. The candle-holding parishioners scattered in fright as the priest attempted to plea for the mob to stop. They trampled him to death in front of Sam, who had watched from under his overturned wheelbarrow. Forced to live on his own, ten-year-old Sam started stealing food from the same townspeople who had mobbed his parish. Enacting what he thought to be divine justice, he set fire to the houses and businesses of those he remembered seeing during the attack. After he had terrorized the township for seven years, Planetary Police managed to catch him. At age seventeen, he was prosecuted in Pennsylvania as an adult, for postwar rioting, and received a ten-year sentence at a maximum-security prison, as an example to the populace.
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